Mother's Day
by Emilamoo
Summary: Lisbon hated Mother's Day. Hated it. Then Jane comes over to try to cheer her up. Oneshot. Jisbon!


**Okay, well, this is my second fanfic. I just got the idea in my head and it would _not get out _no matter what I did! I know, Mother's Day was Sunday, but I couldn't put it online then. Hey, better late than never, right? Hope you enjoy! Oh, and this is kinda OOC, so if you don't like that stuff than don't read. Oh and personally, I like my other story better, but, I just _had _to make this! Words can not describe the urgency I felt at typing this down when the idea popped into my brain!**

**Disclaimer: No matter how many times I wish on a star, how many times I blow on those fluffy dandelions (the grayish ones, not the yellow), no matter how much I pray, I still don't own The Mentalist or its characters.**

Teresa Lisbon sat on her couch, staring at an old scrapbook that lied on her coffee table. It was Mother's Day. She hated Mother's Day. Hated it, hated it, _hated it! _Ever since that day when some drunken monster crashed into her mother in a car accident and killed her, Lisbon would spend her Mother's Days sitting on that couch and staring at that scrapbook, trying to summon up the courage to open it and relive the childhood memories that she had shared with her other.

Lisbon sighed and closed her eyes. She couldn't do it. Another attempt failed. Again. Damn. Great; now she was in a depressed funk! She stood up and stretched, heading for the bathroom. She planned to take a nice, long shower, and then plop in front of the TV to watch some sappy Lifetime movie or something with a glass of wine just like last year.

And the year before that.

The year before that one, too.

Okay, so every year since her mother's death.

She stripped down and stepped into the shower, turning it on. The steaming water poured on her, cascading down her body. Twenty-five minutes later, she stepped out an into the steam, feeling refreshed. she wrapped a white towel around her and ran a brush through her raven-colored hair before stepping out of the bathroom. She heard a knock on her door and frowned.

_Who the hell could be visiting me? _she asked to herself.

Forgetting the fact that she was only wearing a towel, she opened the door. Looking back at her was the team's consultant, Patrick Jane. Her mouth dropped.

"Jane, what the hell're you-" Lisbon started to ask.

Jane's eyes widened at the sight of his boss just in a towel. "Wow, Lisbon. Do you always answer your door half naked?" he asked teasingly, a twinkle in his eyes.

Lisbon gasped, looked down at herself, turned tomato red, and slammed the door in his face, but not before he got a good look. For such a petite woman, she had legs that looked like they went on forever and curves that would make any man's knees weak, including his.

When she opened the door a few minutes later, she was wearing a fitted, v-neck, emerald green sweater that made her bright green eyes pop and dark blue skinny jeans that showed off her hips nicely. She put her hand on her hips and looked at Jane expectantly.

"What are you doing here, Jane?" she asked.

"I'm here to cheer you up," he told her.

"I don't need cheering up," she lied, rolling her eyes.

"I think you do."

It was true. She _did _need cheering up, even though she regretted admitting it. But hey, who better to have keep you company than Patrick Jane?

"Can I come in?"

She sighed and opened her door wider.

"Fine, sure. Go ahead. Whatever."

She turned around and huffed over to lean on her counter. "So how're you going to cheer me up?"

"Well, first of all, I brought you some Italian," he said, holding up a bag that she hadn't noticed before. She visibly perked up a little. She loved Italian. "And while we're eating, we can watch a movie. Just... not that Lifetime movie that you were planning to watch."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, not surprised that he knew her plans. He _did _used to be a fake physic. She walked over to her couch, quickly hiding the scrapbook behind the pillow behind her. Jane walked up to her TV and pulled out a DVD.

"Do you like Patrick Dempsey?" he asked her.

She nodded. "Yeah, he's pretty cool."

"And do you like comedies?"

She nodded again.

"Then I think you'll like this movie."

He inserted the movie and took his seat next to Lisbon. "Hope you like Alfredo noodles," he said, taking out two trays and placing one in front of her.

"Oh, I do," she told him, smiling. "I love Alfredo."

She had barely started eating when the opening page for the movie appeared on the screen.

"Made of Honor?" she asked, looking at Jane. "Isn't that a... romance movie?"

"Well... yeah. But it's a cute romantic comedy that's good for cheering people up."

She shrugged. "Okay. Works for me."

They watched the movie as they ate. Lisbon shared Jane's laughter at the funny parts. She teared up a little at a part in the movie where one of the main characters, Hannah, (also the main character, Tom's, best friend) catches a woman trying to force Tom to have sex with her because she's drunk, even though he clearly doesn't want to. After all, Tom is in love with Hannah; he even kissed her to prove it. Now, Hannah catches them and gets heartbroken. Tom tries to explain, but she won't listen. Now, they're both heartbroken and Tom plans to leave Scotland and go back to New York because he can't stand watching Hannah marry a Scottish man. Hence, the reason for her watery eyes. Oh, the drama of it all. Why can't love just be simple? But, just like most movies, it all turned out happily-ever-after. Tom got the girl and the movie ended with he and Hannah kissing. Figures. If only real life was so movie perfect. Ha!

Lisbon looked over at Jane, surprised to see him staring right at her. He leaned in towards her, and she sunk back on the couch. Soon, she was lying full out flat with her back on the couch and Jane was on top of her, keeping some distance between them by holding himself up with his arms. Lisbon's heart began to race. Was he going to kiss her? He leaned in, but instead of placing his lips on hers, he reached behind her and pulled out her scrapbook.

"Now let's look at this, shall we?" Jane asked, waving it in front of her.

Lisbon's eyes widened. "Let's not!"

"What is it?"

"It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, why did you try to hide it from me?"

She tried to put on an innocent face. "What do you mean? I didn't try to hide it from you," she lied.

"Lisbon, I saw you throw that underneath your coffee table when I walked over to sit by you."

She sighed. "Fine. You got me. It's a scrapbook that my mom and I made the Mother's Day before... she... you know." Her voice cracked. "I've been trying to look at it every year, but I haven't opened it since..."

"Why not?" Jane pried gently.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I just never worked up enough courage."

"Would you look at it if I was here?"

"I don't know..." Lisbon said dubiously.

"Please, Lisbon? For me? I'd like to see what she looked like."

"Oh... all right," she gave in hesitantly.

"I'm not forcing you to," he assured her quickly.

"No, I know. I'll do it. I need to overcome the fear of my past, anyway."

Jane placed the scrapbook in between them and tenderly placed a hand on Lisbon's shoulder. "When you're ready."

Lisbon took a long, deep breath and opened the scrapbook. There was a picture of a tall, pretty woman with long, dark brown hair that flowed down her back and big, teal eyes holding the hand of a little girl with long, brown hair. She had the same green eyes that Lisbon had. Jane peered closer at the picture.

"My mom," Lisbon explained quietly.

"Ah." Jane pointed at the little girl. "Is that you?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I was a brunette back then. As the years went on, I'd dye my hair darker and darker."

She turned the page again. There was a picture of little Lisbon, maybe two years old, posing with one of those fake Easter Bunnies at the mall. She looked scared, and her mother was holding her hand. Jane chuckled.

"What?" Lisbon asked defensively. "Those eyes were creepy! They didn't have any pupils and they were _black!_"

"I wasn't laughing at you. Just... the expression on your face is priceless!"

She cracked a smile too and continued on. They passed pictures of her at ages three, four, and five. There were pictures of her with her mother at the pool, at the park, and at the zoo. The next picture was a picture of a six year old Lisbon and her mother riding the teacup ride at Disney World. Lisbon's mouth was open, probably crying out squeals of glee, while her mom's face was slightly a sickly green.

Lisbon laughed quietly. "Mom didn't have the strongest stomach," she said with a sad smile.

"Who does?" Jane asked, smiling.

They continued on and looked at the pictures of when she as seven, eight, and nine. There were a few pictures of her playing with puppies and of her and her family at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago back when she was ten. Jane particularly enjoyed the picture of where Lisbon, two little boys, (one with short, spiky black hair and one with floppy, blonde hair) and her mom were standing on top of an area where there was just glass. Underneath them, to the sides of them, and even above them, fish swam in the sea blue water. There was one spot that was carpeted, and a short boy with sandy brown, curly hair and freckles was standing, a horrified expression on his face.

Lisbon laughed. "That's Andy," she told Jane. "He was absolutely terrified of the water."

Jane chuckled. "Then why'd you guys take him to an aquarium?"

She snorted. "I honestly have no idea."

They continued on, looking at the photos of when she was ten, eleven, and twelve. Most of the pictures in that age range were of her running on the track team. Then, they flipped to a picture where a young teen-aged Lisbon with chocolate-brown hair and a pretty woman with short, mocha colored hair and big brown eyes were posing together.

"My seventh grade reading and math teacher," Lisbon explained to Jane.

"Seventh grade. So, you were... thirteen in that picture?"

She nodded. "Yep."

The picture showed the teacher with her arm around thirteen year old Lisbon, smiling. Lisbon was beaming, holding an egg-white certificate with black, cursive writing on it and a golden embroidery outline.

"What's that?" Jane asked, pointing to it.

"A Golden Academic Award," Lisbon told him. "You had to get high scores on your MAPS testings and all those complicated tests, plus good grades. Then, they make the certificate, ship it to D.C., get the president to sign it, ship it back with a pin, and have your parents present it to you in the front of the entire grade."

Jane let out a low whistle. "Fancy."

She turned to the next page, looking with him. Jane studied the pictures and ages. Fourteen. Fifteen. With ever passing year, her hair grew darker and darker.

They came across a picture with a sixteen year old Lisbon with three other girls. One had slightly longer than shoulder lenght black hair and blue glasses; one was slightly short with long light brown hair; one was short with short brown hair; and Lisbon had long, dark brown hair. She had her elbow slung on the black-haired girl's shoulder. All four of them wore a white button down blouse, brick red and navy blue, plad, short skirts, brick red knee-high socks, and black shoes: their school uniform, no doubt. Lisbon was the only one who could pull it off, quite frankly. She looked cute. Really cute. Hot, even. A few locks of wispy brown hair blew in her face, rustled by the breeze. SHe wore black eyeliner and a pale, dusty rose lipstick. Her smile was smug, like she was smirking at something, and her nails were pink. Jane looked at Lisbon's nails now, which were white.

"Who are they?" Jane asked her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Emily," Lisbon said, pointing to the black haired girl. She pointed to the girl with the long brown hair, and then the short. "Lisa and Latisha."

Jane looked at the picture. Emily looked distraught behind her smile; Lisa looked upset; and Latisha looked mad.

"What's wrong with them? They looked aggravated."

Lisbon sighed. "I was going through a bitchy stage at that age. They weren't very pleased with me."

Jane smiled. "Bitchy? You? Nah. They must've just been moody or something. Because the Lisbon I know isn't bitchy."

Lisbon shook her head. "I wasn't the Lisbon you know back then. Back then, I was Teresa, the most popular and nastiest girl in the entire school. The queen bee, if you'd like. But my nastiness caused me to lose all my friends. I think that Emily, Lisa, and Latisha all moved to Wisconsin for college."

"Ew. Wisconsin. Too cold for me," he commented with a smile.

Lisbon snorted and turned the page. They passed through the pictures through the pictures of her when she was seventeen until they got to the last picture. Eighteen year old Lisbon was standing with a handsome senior with bushy dark brown hair, a charming smile, bright eyes, and dimples. He had his arms wrapped around young Lisbon, beaming, and Lisbon was laughing. He wore a black tuxedo with a light teal colored tie. Young Lisbon had a long, pretty dress on the same color as his tie. A corsage was on her wrist and her dark chocolate brown hair was wavy, pulled up behind her in a pony tail. A few tendrils hung loosely, but they were curled and created an elegant effect.

"Prom?" Jane guessed.

Lisbon nodded. "Yep, one of the best nights of my life."

"Who's the lucky boy?"

"His name is Jesse. He was my first boyfriend."

"What happened to him?"

Lisbon's green eyes bore into his blue ones. "Since when has my sex life interested you, Jane?"

"It doesn't. I'm just curious. Besides, that was years ago."

Lisbon let out a little cry. "It was not _years _ago!" she shouted, slapping him on the arm with mock anger.

"Ow-wuh!" Jane whined. He rubbed his arm tenderly. "That hurt and was completely unnecessary."

"As was the 'years' comment," she shot back.

"You know what I meant. I meant that it was in the past."

"Riiiight," she mumbled slowly, dubiously.

"I'm serious!" Jane protested.

"Whatever," Lisbon scuffed, smiling and rolling her eyes.

She turned the page and a little note dropped was written with a turquoise-blue ink on sky-blue paper. Lisbon read it out loud.

_My darling Teresa,_

_Words cannot describe how much I love you. _

_Your laughter, so uplifting and soothing, makes my day._

_Your smile, so bright and beautiful, melts my heart._

_Your voice, so angelic and bubly, makes me eager to come home from work every day._

_Your eyes, the prettiest green, make me feel like I'm staring into a pool of emerald jade when I talk to you._

_You hair, the most gorgeous color hair could possibly be, is thick and shiny, just like you grandmother's. _

_Teresa, you are the most beautiful creature ever to be born. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise._

_My dear, you are--and forever will be-- my beautiful baby girl. _

_You will always be in my heart, no matter what. _

_And I'll always be with you, whether you can see me or not. _

_I love you and hope you will find happiness wherever you go._

_You are beautiful and boys will fall in love with you._

_You will fall in love with them._

_But... though you may _think _you're in love, you many not be. _

_Choose the man you want to spend the rest of your life with wisely._

_Choose the man you believe will take care of you the best and the one you love most. _

_Take care, my love._

_Your mother._

By the time she was finished, her voice was cracking and her chin was trembling ferociously. She wrapped her fingers around her chin and jaw and squeezed, trying to keep it from shaking so much. If any thing, it only made it worse. As the first tear emerged from her eye, Jane wrapped his arms aorund her and pulled her into a long, comforting hug. She clutched him, holding onto him like he was a life preserver and she was drowning in her tears. Her sobs turned to shouts and her body racked. Jane patted her back and ran his hand up and down.

"Shhh. There, there, let it out," he crooned softly into her ear.

Her crying was heartbreaking. It wasn't your normal crying. Not the sobs of sadness. No, this was stronger. Much stronger. She was screaming into his chest, her endless tears soaking his vest. And she was gasping. Not long gasps, short ones. Short gasps followed by more shouting. And then there was just silence. Lisbon had cried all the tears out of her. There was no more liquid. Just shaking and trembling. He tightened his grip on her, refusing to let go. Then, she was silent and still. Slowly, oh so slowly, she pulled away. Wet streams were on her face, and Jane wiped them away with his thumbs. She nervously tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Jane shook his head. "No, don't be. There's no need to. There's nothing wrong with crying. In fact, I would be worried if you _didn't _cry."

Lisbon drew in a shaky breath, smiled a shaky smile at him, and looked at her clock. "Holy crap! It's already half past midnight!"

"Yes it is," Jane confirmed the obvious. "Do you want me to leave now or can I stay here and make sure you're okay?"

"I don't know. Can you?"

"All right then, Grammar Police. _May _I stay here and make sure you're okay?"

"You may. Just let me get changed."

"Will do."

Jane watched Lisbon go. He was surprised that she let him stay. Of course, she clearly really needed his company right now. It was clear that she was distraught and upset. He figured that she must have kept all of her emotions bottled up, concealed by a mask that she wore at work, and when she finally relived some of her childhood memories, she had cracked. He was honored that she had taken off her mask for him. She came back wearing a red long sleeved shirt and white flanel pants with red polka dots. He chuckled.

"What?" Lisbon snapped, feeling suddenly self concious.

"Nothing. I just... thought you'd be a t-shirt and undies kinda girl."

Lisbon's face flushed bright red. "You know, I don't have to let you stay here."

"I know. But you know you want to," he said smugly.

She sighed. "Well, I'm ready to go to bed now, and as you can see, I'm perfectly fine. So, you can go now."

He stood up and walked towards her, cornering her against the wall. "You sure?" he asked.

She sucked in a breath and nearly choked. She couldn't breathe. Not with him so close to her. "Yes, I'm sure," she managed to croak.

"Okay." He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Lisbon. Thank you for opening up that scrapbook and revealing part of your past to me, even though you couldn't before. I'm honored."

She nodded. "Mmm-hmm. Thank you for helping me. It means a lot. I mean, I've never had the guts to open that since she left me and every single year I'd try but no matter how hard my efforts-" Her eyes starting watering again.

Jane put a finger on her lips. "Shh. Just, shh. It's over now."

And then, he leaned in, slowly. He kissed her slowly, softly, tenderly on the lips before straightening up. "You'll be okay?"

She nodded again. "Yes. I will be."

Then he left before either of them could say anything else. Lisbon sighed and sunk to the ground, her back still to the wall. This was the first Mother's Day that she had actually enjoyed ever since her mother's death. She knew now, thanks to Patrick Jane, that'd it would all be okay. She'd be okay.


End file.
